Wounds
by MadameWeasley
Summary: There's only so much a person can take. Even if it's Santana Lopez
1. Chapter 1

**I got an idea listening to the band/song i promised to never pay any attention to: One Direction. What Makes you beautiful. This is in no way making a joke of any serious topics that may (i have no idea where this will go) show up in this, only one of my "bright ideas". I know this first bit is unbelievably short, but im using it as a test to see what everyone thinks. if everything goes well, more chapters will come. **

It was no secret that Santana had been having trouble since a photoshopped picture of her basically inhaling an entire cheesecake surfaced on the internet. It prompted school-wide rumors saying that she was pregnant, that she is known for getting high and getting the munchies and that she was a crackhead. Eventually, all of the rumors went away. But no one seemed to see anything wrong with referring to Santana as "The Fat Whore" or the "The Bulging Pothead". She began to starve herself as much as possible, and when she did eat, she never held it down for more than an hour. She would often resort to cocaine and prescription drugs to dull the physical and emotional pain. She would often show up to class dazed and confused, huge bags under her eyes, no make-up, wearing sweats. She'd never speak. When she did it was often a slurred offense that no one understood. She almost always had chills or shakes and seemed extremely distant.

Santana wasn't doing well.

So, when the kids of William McKinley High Glee Club got a call that she was in the hospital, no one was truly shocked.

One by one, showed up at the hospital. Brittany. Mr. Shue. Puck. Quinn. Finn and Rachel. Mercedes. Mike and Tina. Kurt and Blaine. Sam. Even the new kid, Rory.

Inside the waiting room everyone sat.

Paced.

Cried.

No one spoke, but in that silence, everyone could _feel_ each other.

Feel Santana.

On her edge.

Whether she jumped yet, no one knew.

**Alright, let me know what you think! I know its not much to work off of but that all i could think of at 3 in the morning. Please make suggestions, etc:) xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Another bright idea I had: let's make this pre-Britanna. Just a fair warning. **

The doctor had said that she had overdosed on xanax, a drug used by people with anxiety and panic issues. Because of her recently developed eating disorders, her body couldn't handle the drugs as they usually would. Santana had taken a few before she took a nap. How many, it was near impossible to tell.

Santana hadn't woken up from that nap yet.

It had been four hours since she had gotten to the hospital.

No one left until around eleven o'clock that night. Then, one by one as they had come in, the students and Mr. Shue tore themselves away, vowing to return the next day. Eventually, Santana was alone in her hospital room, except for one boy in the corner of the room, slowly dozing in the recliner, but fighting it in order to monitor the girl in the bed. He wasn't sure why. Did feel responsible for her? Was she like his little sister? Was he the reason she was there? No. Did he love her? Was he _in love_ with her? Maybe. For whatever reason, he felt a draw to Santana Lopez. So Noah Puckerman remained in that chair all night.

At six o'clock the next morning, a cell phone went off, a little too loud for a hospital. Eyes closed, hoping with all he had that last night was a dream, Puck turned off the alarm that would usually

be followed by a string of curses and preparation for school.

On a normal day.

But when he opened one eye and saw the still sleeping and inanimate shell of Santana Lopez, he remembered.

This was no normal day.

Slowly stretching and waking up, Puck never lost focus on her.

_What if this is it for her?_

_What if she doesn't make it?_

_What if she does make it, but only starts killing herself again?_

_What if there's nothing they can do anymore?_

_What if I'm unknowingly watching her last breaths?_

_What if she's not breathing? _

_What if, what if, what if, what if, what if...?_

Those had been the thoughts that haunted Puck every morning since this girl began her downward spiral, followed by the same thoughts.

_Why is she doing this to herself?_

_Why did they post that picture?_

_Why did they call her all those names?_

_Why doesn't she see how beautiful she is?_

_Why doesn't anyone tell her how beautiful she is?_

_Why can't I tell her how beautiful she is?_

_Why, why, why, why, why...?_

Puck walked towards the bed and, careful not to mess anything up, he slipped his fingers through hers. Still warm, still living.

Growing stronger.

He listened to the heart monitor. The constant beeping slowly began to speed up. Looking at the little zigzagging line-he had taken a nap the day they learned about what exactly those lines are called and how they work in Med Class-he realized more frequents turns. Stronger turns. Looking down at Santana, Puck wanted nothing more than to see a mere flutter at her eyes, a twitch at her lip that usually hinted at a snarky comment forming, or a scrunch of her nose when she was obviously annoyed.

None of that happened.

What did happen was a sudden grip on his hand. Puck waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, he got that flutter. The soft, brown eyes he'd stared into for four years now opened. With that, Noah Puckerman realized one key thing.

He did actually love her.

**So I have a thing for writing sentences**

**like**

**this...**

**Anyway, I hope its good because it doesn't really seem that good to me right now. As always, comments and favorites make me very, very happy:) xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**So I forgot to mention that I obviously don't own Glee. If I did, you'd be watching this on what would probably be the final season, as I would have just ran this show into the ground:) Now, on with the story;)**

Three days after waking up, Santana was released to go home. Her mother, who had been at the hospital on and off considering she had a job, drove her home. There was no lecture about how bad drugs were, nothing about how beautiful her surely bias mother thought she was or how what other people say doesn't matter as long as she knew the truth.

No yelling.

No grounding.

_No sound._

Santana had no problem with that. In all honesty, all she wanted was her bed.

When she got home that's exactly where she went. The doctor had released her so long as she promised not to go to school until the next week, so she remained in her bed for days. No tv, no music. Staring at the wall or ceiling the entire time. She refused any company from her friends, each of them calling at least once a day to check in. She was out of the hospital, sure, but Santana was still only a shell of what she used to be. She let herself be consumed by her thoughts all day and all night.

_What was I thinking?_

_Why would I do this to myself?_

_I've become everything they said I am._

_There's no way I can go back now._

_It's only going to get worse. _

Even the thought of running away crossed her mind.

Her mother had never seen her like this before. She didn't know what to do, what to say, who to call...

A shrilling ring. Mrs. Lopez picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Mrs. Lopez, hey, it's...it's Noah, Noah Puckerman..." he said it almost like a question.

"Noah, hi."

"Hi," he answered.

"I already know what you're going to ask, assuming it's the same thing everyone else has been asking. She hasn't come out. She hasn't said anything. But, fortunately, she is starting to eat and hold down a little."

A low, slightly relieved sigh came from the other end. "That's...a good start," he replied. "Well, listen, if either of you need anything, please let me know. I want to help her as much as I can, in any way that I can."

An epiphany. "You and Santana, you're pretty close, right?"

"Yeah...I suppose you could say that..." Puck replied not quite sure where this was going.

"Okay. Will you come over? I think, although she'll most likely disagree, a friend is what she needs more than anything right now. Someone who knows who she really is and who thinks positively of her. Before all this started, you were the person she always talked about, the name she would always smile at whenever it was mentioned. Noah, I know my daughter. She isn't herself right now, but I know that she is in there somewhere. She loves you."

A weight had been lifted off of Noah Puckerman. The girl he loved loved him back.

_Unbelieveable._ He thought. _I guess badasses do belong together. _

He smiled at the thought.

"I'm on my way," he replied.

Fifteen minutes later, a red pickup truck pulled into the driveway. Puck slipped from his truck eying the two story brick house on a corner. Mrs. Lopez was at the door immediately.

"Up stairs to the left. Her door is shut."

He smiled at her and followed direction. When he got to the door, he held the door knob for a minute.

_What was he going to do?_

_What was he going to say?_

_Would she talk to him?_

_Would she just push him away? _

_What would she think?_

All thoughts aside, he entered the room. There she was, sitting in her bed, long brown hair slightly curled at the end, in a rumpled t-shirt and shorts. Her skin had a slight olive tone, going back to normal, as opposed to the sickening pale color it has been for the past few weeks. Even her lips were getting a pinkish color back. Maybe it was because he had gotten used to her drugged out look, but she actually looked _better_. Not as good as she does on a normal say, but she was making progress. Lately, her eyes had a dead, desolate look to them. But when she looked up at him, there was a trace of life in those pools of warm chocolate.

Amazing what food, sleep and a few days off drugs can do.

She didn't glare.

She didn't yell.

She didn't tell him to leave.

He crossed the room and sat on her bed next to her. He hugged her.

She didn't push him away.

She didn't pull out of the hug.

She simply returned the hug.

"I've missed you, kiddo." he whispered to her, kissing her soft head. Her hair smelled faintly of raspberries.

With that one sentence, she began to cry. A soft, light, quiet sob.

He hugged her tighter.

They must have sat there for at least an hour in that position.

**I don't know why I decided to make her hair smell like raspberries. And I tried my hardest to not use the whole "eyes like chocolate" thing from Twilight, but I failed miserably...**

**Aaaaanyway...same message as always: talk to me, favorite, all of the above;) xoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's been so long!:) I've had severe writers block and a sudden realization of how good the show Doctor Who is...anyway, I'm thinking it's about time to wrap this one up so this might be the second to last chapter. and i have no idea what's about to happen in this chapter or the next. This should be fun...:)**

_I don't know why he's here...but I'm glad he is..._

Santana sat on her plush red bedspread thinking to herself while Puck went to her bathroom to get some tissue. For the first time in what seemed like years but were only weeks, Santana was...

Happy?

Calm?

Confused?

Content. Content felt right. She had no fears, no empty feeling with him in her presence. Nothing bad could happen to her while Noah Puckerman was there.

Puck slumped out of the bathroom tripping, over a wastebasket on his way out. "Damnit! I'm sorry!" he automatically said. A trilling, yet low laugh startled Puck and when he looked up from the mess he'd just made, he saw the angelic smile that he's gone so long without seeing, and that he thought he would see maybe around...Christmas? His lips slowly parted into an unsure smile. He cleaned his mess up and crossed the room, giving her the tissue. She wiped her eyes a bit, but didn't look back at him.

"You okay, Santana?" he finally asked.

_I am now_ she wanted to say. She wanted to tell Puck how his existence made her feel better, as if she were worth something. "Yeah," she responded, instead. "I'm okay."

As expected, Puck only nodded. He paused for a minute, gathering his thoughts, and then turned to the broken girl next to him. What he said next was also expected.

"You could have died." This conversation again, Santana thought to herself. The same conversation that she had had with herself for days now. It's amazing how much more powerful and painful it is when you lecture yourself as opposed to when someone else does it.

"I know what you're going to say and believe me-" she began.

"No you don't," Puck silenced her. "You don't know what I'm gonna say. And if you do then...I dunno what." he paused before speaking again. "What I was going to say was that...you could have died...and I would have never told you. You would have never known that I...that I love you."

At that, Santana had to look him in the eye. "No. No you don't. You pity me. Just like everyone else. That's all."

"_No._ I don't. Because I know you. You're the toughest, most badass person at McKinley, but everyone has their limits. The fact is that...you don't know how to handle...all that's happened. And it's not your fault. But you need to know that you don't have to be alone. It's _not_ you against the rest of the school and even if it was, let's be honest...who would win that one?"

A slight smile let Puck know that she knew that answer. Just like the real Santana would.

"I do love you. And based on what your mother said, you love me, too. Do you know how..._happy _I was when she told me that? I mean, I've loved you for a while now, but knowing that you loved me back made everything better. She told me that then asked me to come over and talk to you. After that, I knew I could do it and if I didn't get anywhere this time, I would try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. Until you felt like you could...trust me, love me, whatever. I'm not great at the whole...thing. I'm surprised I made it that far without punching myself in the face for being so sappy. But that's it."

She only stared.

That drove him crazy.

_Does she think I'm crazy?_

_Is the real Santana gonna make a reappearance and use this against me?_

_God, I hope she doesn't slap me. _

Finally, she broke the silence with three words. Three little words.

"Puck...thank you."

Puck smiled and leaned in ever so slightly, a warning for what he was about to do. When she didn't react, she lightly brushed his lips against hers.

**Alright, I hope this is better to you than it is to me. I think I know what's about to happen next!:) Review and stuff for me! xoxox**


	5. Final Chapter

**So i know it's been forever. I've been stuck in both high school and writer's block, neither of which is easier than the other. That said, this will be my last chapter mostly because have nowhere else to go with this story and i have a few other ideas...:) **

_1 Month Later _

"Are you scared?" Puck asked her.

"Not in the slightest. I've done this thousands of times." Santana replied.

The duo walked to the field an hour before the biggest game of the year: Homecoming. It was also Santana's first game back since her near death experience.

There was a slight breeze in the air that hinted at a stormy night but good game weather. Santana handed Puck the letterman jacket she nearly always wore now, and exchanged it for her cheer bag, as they prepared to go their separate ways: him to the guys' locker room, her to one last practice before the game. Even in the breeze, Santana felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the weather. She had always felt that around Puck but only now, knowing that he felt the same way about her as she did about him, was she able to admit it to herself. It was him that made her feel happy, safe. No one could touch her so long as he existed and loved her.

He hugged her tightly and started walking towards the locker room on the other side of the school grounds.

Santana lingered outside the door for a minute. This would be the first time seeing many of the Cheerios aside from a pass in the hall or a glimpse in the cafeteria. The thought almost made her nervous. Almost. She put her hand on the doorknob, but couldn't do it. Not yet.

Because, as uncharacteristic of Santana as it was, there was still one more thing she desperately needed.

Her drug.

Her protection.

"Puck!" she called at the boy shrinking in the distance.

She bolted towards him as fast as she could manage, dropping her cheer bag along the way.

He met her midway with a look balanced between worry and confusion.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, a bit afraid to hear what he thought she might say.

_I can't do it._

_It's too soon._

But when he saw the slight smile playing on her lips, he was only curious.

"I forgot something." she said. She pressed her lips firmly to his and like that, any fear or uncertainty she had about her cheerleading return disappeared.

_He _was her drug now. She could, of course, survive without him but why try if she didn't have to?

_He _was her protection. He always had been and always would be, whether they dated or not.

They pulled apart, both smiling.

"I love...you.." They said at the same time and began laughing at each other.

Puck went his way, Santana went hers.

This time when she got to that door she didn't hesitate to walk right in.

The girls everywhere, in various positions, simply stopped and stared.

Santana looked each one of them right in the eye.

"What are you looking at? We have a game don't we? I'm not gonna be caught out there looking like an idiot because you lowlifes in skirts didn't rehearse the routine. No me gusta."

They all got back to whatever it was they were doing.

Santana sat down her bag and looked over to her one ally in the room.

Brittany Pierce smiled at her as if to say "You're back"

Santana return her smile that replied "Hell yeah, Brits. I'm back."

**So that's it then. I hope you've enjoyed this story even if the last chapter was...heheh anyway...Thanks so much for the great comments and favorites, they're cherished and always appreciated. xoxo**


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